


Common Issues in Child Care

by neveralarch



Category: Doctor Who, Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-28
Updated: 2011-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 09:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From aralias' prompt: "Some sort of Gallifrey babyfic - yes, that's what's happening here." Set in a idyllic future of the canon, where both the K-9s are there and also Elbon is not a zombie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Common Issues in Child Care

**Author's Note:**

> Written for aralias for the morepolitics Gallifrey ficathon. Betaed by the most excellent janeturenne, and the LJ-less Elijah. Thanks so much! Problems remaining are mine.

“Look, Romana, I’ve brought you a present,” the Doctor said excitedly, hopping out of the TARDIS he had actually landed in Romana’s office. He pressed a squirming baby into Romana’s hands before she had time to duck under the desk or employ any of her other sudden-Doctor-appearance protocols.

“This is in no way acceptable,” Romana began, but she was distracted by the child sneezing on her. There was mucus everywhere, disgusting. She glanced over and noticed that even the Doctor’s nice velvet coat was looking splotchy and stained, though he didn’t seem to mind. The longer she held the baby, the more likely that was to happen to her poor robes.

“Her name is Fira,” said the Doctor, ignoring Romana’s distress, “and she’s very small and her parents have been imprisoned by nasty and very large evil aliens. I suppose they not that large, really. Only in comparison.”

“I see,” said Romana, trying, in the absence of anything to mop the mucus up with, to at least keep it all on the baby. “Is there something the President can do to help?”

“I’m not entirely certain I like it when you refer to yourself in the third person,” said the Doctor. “No, Lady President, I do not need your assistance. If my good friend _Romana_ had time to care for my new and also good friend Fira, I would be very grateful.”

He made imploring eyes at Romana, but she was distracted by the baby making grabby, snot-covered hands for her hair. She held it farther away from her, glaring at the Doctor. His own dark curls were safely out of the baby's reach.

"She's lovely, isn't she?" he cooed. "Oh, please, Romana. It'll only be for the afternoon."

" _No_ , Doctor," said Romana. She tried to hand the baby back to the Doctor, but he backed away, around her desk.

"She needs a place to stay while I rescue her world from the Sontarans," said the Doctor. His voice remained logical and smooth, even as he half-tripped over a chair. "I can keep her safe and happy and fed or I can rescue her world, but I can't do all of those things. Despite what you might recall, I am not infallible."

"Surely one of your other former companions could mind her," said Romana, shifting her grip on the baby until it was sort of hanging with her hands wrapped around its back and stomach. "One of the humans with a stable family life."

"The problem with my human companions with stable family lives is that they tend to get rather nervous and refuse to take babies from me," said the Doctor, thoughtfully. "I’m not sure why, because I do always come back for them eventually. On the other hand, the companions who have gone off to lead dangerous lives of adventure are generally happy to take babies. I thought of you as a sort of compromise."

"I don't have a family, and the situation here on Gallifrey is hardly safe," said Romana. "What sort of compromise is that?"

"Family, large governmental support staff, I know there’s a difference, but either is capable of caring for a child for a few hours." The Doctor waved a hand and began inching toward his TARDIS. Romana tried to follow, but the baby grabbed at her hair again, successfully this time, and her attention was caught up with trying to disentangle herself from the baby's sticky fingers.

"Anyway, Gallifrey is boring, which is basically the same as safe," continued the Doctor. He'd managed to get the TARDIS door open without ever turning away from Romana to unlock it.

"I realize you haven't been around lately, Doctor, but Gallifrey has been _anything_ but boring-"

"Goodbye, Romana, I'll be back tonight! Tomorrow at the latest."

"Doctor!"

The TARDIS dematerialized.

The baby started to cry.

"Rassilon's trampoline," said Romana. Her arms were getting tired from holding the baby at arms length. She sat down and set the baby on her desk. It stopped crying for a moment, looking down at its own legs and the wood underneath them. Romana smiled tentatively at it, in an effort to reassure.

The baby looked up, saw her face, and started to cry again.

“Now,” said Romana, trying to recall the child’s name. The Doctor had said it a number of times, but she’d been more concerned with other things at the time. “Now, Baby, stop crying. You can stay if you can keep a stiff upper lip and sit _quietly_.” She hesitated, and reached out a hand to pat the child awkwardly on the head. “There.”

The baby snuffled. Romana smiled at it again, going so far as to wipe a few of its tears away from its hot cheeks. Then it sneezed once more, all over her hand. Romana moaned in a very dignified way.

“Right,” she said. “This calls for delegation.” She hit the comm button with the hand that was not covered in mucus. "Send in Chancellor Braxiatel, please."

\---

When Braxiatel walked into Romana's office, it was with a typical subtle smirk. It froze as he caught sight of the baby, currently gumming on the cloth of the presidential sash.

"Please tell me that isn't yours," he said. "And if it is, please don't tell anyone else."

"It's not mine, Brax," said Romana. She took off her skullcap and ran a hand through her hair. She seemed more concerned with it than usual. "The Doctor brought it."

"I don't need any more nieces or nephews," said Braxiatel, without pausing for thought. "One, as much as I loved her, was quite enough. Perhaps a quiet adoption could be-"

"It's not related to anyone you know," said Romana, loudly. "It's an alien refugee, which we are _temporarily_ minding while the Doctor fixes things on its home planet."

"I see," said Braxiatel, with a combination of relief and weariness. "Business as usual."

"Yes," said Romana. She stood up, picking up the baby as she went. The baby held on to the sash tightly as Romana deposited the whole bundle into Braxiatel's arms.

"Brax, I am placing this child in your care," Romana sat back down, ignoring the twitch in Braxiatel's cheek. "Your brother gave it to me, ergo it's your responsibility."

"I’m not sure that logic bears the weight of inspection," said Braxiatel in his speaking-truth-to-the-powerful tone of voice. "If I were to be held responsible for everything my brother did, I would have been consigned to a secret CIA prison long ago."

"Consider yourself lucky I'm just giving you a baby, then." Romana looked studiously at her paperwork. "I'm busy, Brax. Just take it away to somewhere it can be taken care of until the Doctor comes to collect it."

"But of course, Madam President," said Braxiatel. He cradled the child in one arm, giving it an enigmatic smile. The baby giggled and blew a spit bubble that popped and spattered on Braxiatel's immaculate breast. His smile never faltered, though something flickered in his eyes.

"Incidentally, is this a female or a male baby?"

"I can't remember," said Romana. She signed something with a flourish calculated to make her look important and involved in her work and far too busy for this inane discussion. "It hardly matters, does it? The baby's species - which I also don't know and I believe the Doctor didn't inform me of - may not even have a binary gender system. So few do." She signed another piece of paper, pointedly.

Braxiatel took the hint and walked out of the office without further comment.

\---

"I'm afraid you rather ruin my image." Braxiatel strolled down the corridors, talking idly to the baby. "I'm supposed to be the unflappable politician, a shadowy figure. It's extremely difficult to be shadowy when one is cradling a baby in the crook of one’s arm."

The baby tried to stuff more of the presidential sash in its mouth.

"That shall have to be dry-cleaned," sighed Braxiatel. "I suppose it was only to be expected."

The baby hiccupped around the cloth.

"Perhaps," said Braxiatel, "there is something you can help me with in exchange."

Braxiatel carried the baby through the halls, into the complex of Council offices. One of the doors was standing open, and Braxiatel slipped in, only slightly hampered by his squirming handful. He ignored the secretary just inside, and continued into the inner office.

"Ah, Lady Lethel," he said. "And how are you today? Still thinking of voting against the Lady President's resolution?"

"We've discussed this, Lord Braxiatel," snapped Lethel, an older Time Lady in a surprisingly young body. "The President's resolution goes against everything I ever-"

Braxiatel bounced the baby in his arms, and it gurgled obligingly. Lethel froze.

"What is that?"

"You thought I wouldn't find out your secret, didn't you?" Braxiatel leaned closer. "Your grandson's unauthorized trips off-world. What he's been doing, out in the universe."

"I didn't know," said Lethel, shocked. "He said it was only once or twice - a, a joy ride."

"Yes, I'm sure," said Braxiatel. He stood up straight again, calming the baby. "Not your fault, of course. And nothing more will have to be heard about it."

He left a few minutes later, triumphant.

"You're very handy," he informed the baby. "But I'm afraid I can only play the 'illegitimate love-child' card so many times before the Councilors start getting suspicious."

The baby giggled.

"Well," said Braxiatel, indulgently. "Perhaps once more."

\---

Some three or four terrorized councilors later, Braxiatel could no longer contain the baby's fidgeting.

"I'm sure there's someone in the Citadel who can mind you," he said. "Surely."

The baby began to cry.

"Braxiatel!" Leela ran toward him, trailed by K-9. "Is this your child? Is it hurt? Do you need help?"

"No, no, and yes, thank you," said Braxiatel. He held out the baby to Leela, and she grasped it around the middle. "Romana told me to care for this child, but I'm afraid I have other duties. I don't suppose you could...?"

"I will guard it with my life," said Leela, firmly. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I don't actually know," said Braxiatel. "It's an alien. A refugee from one of the Doctor's pet worlds."

Leela sat down on the floor, cross-legged, tucking the baby between her knees. It stopped crying, surprised.

"A girl," said Leela, checking.

"That's settled then," said Braxiatel. "Good luck with the baby, Leela. I shall check in with you shortly." He left Leela in sitting in the hallway, K-9 trundling up to investigate.

\---

"You will be a bold warrior," said Leela, looking deep into the baby's eyes. "I shall teach you to be strong."

The baby looked at Leela and drooled a bit.

"I shall teach you to see through illusions," said Leela. "In my tribe we played an ancient game with children, to prepare them for the hunt." She covered up her eyes with her hands. The baby made a small noise of confusion. "Peekaboo," said Leela, solemnly, uncovering her eyes again.

The baby squeaked in surprise, and laughed.

"No," said Leela. "Do you not see? Nothing has changed - I was still here even when you could not see my eyes. We shall try again."

The game continued until the baby got bored and started to look around for something else to do.

"You see, K-9!" said Leela, in triumph. "She has at last learned that this game is only foolishness."

"Affirmative, Mistress," said K-9. "Infant's attention is no longer on activity designated: peekaboo."

"I shall teach her another skill," decided Leela. "How old do you think she is, K-9?"

"Insufficient data," said K-9. "Infant is of indeterminate species and could be at any stage of development."

"I think," said Leela, "she is old enough to defend herself."

The baby's attention was caught as Leela drew one of her knives from her belt. This knife was old and dull, but it still glinted in the light and the baby reached a hand out, fascinated.

"This is unwise, Mistress," said K-9.

"Hush, how else will she learn? It is not sharp, she cannot hurt herself. Now, child, I shall teach you how to fight with a knife."

"Leela, _no_ ," said Narvin. He picked up the baby and held it away from Leela.

"Narvin!" Leela stood up, sheathing her knife. "I did not hear you."

"You were occupied with stabbing the child," said Narvin, grimly. "Don't you know anything about babies? I thought with your native upbringing and womanly-" Narvin waved a hand, "you would be aptly suited for this."

"I am a warrior, not a nursemaid," said Leela. "Others in the tribe cared for the children, not I."

"A good thing for your tribe," muttered Narvin.

"But you, Narvin, you are skilled in the ways of children," said Leela, wondering. "You hold her and she does not cry!"

The baby was clinging tight to the front of Narvin’s robe, not wriggling or trying to escape. She was taking this very calmly – either she was an atypically easy-tempered child, or her near-knife experience with Leela had worn her out. Narvin bounced her, absentmindedly, and the baby sighed.

"I have three hundred and two cousins," said Narvin, as darkly as he could while also rocking the baby. "You learn how to hold a baby."

"Then you must be her caretaker," said Leela. "Braxiatel gave her to me, to guard for Romana, who is keeping her for the Doctor. Her planet is troubled, and we are to keep her safe."

"Are we," said Narvin. "In that case, I agree - she's hardly safe with you."

"Mistress Leela would not have allowed the infant to be damaged," said K-9. If machines could sound defensive, it did.

"Yes," agreed Leela. "I was only teaching her."

"I think," said Narvin, abandoning the argument, "that this baby needs to be fed and to take a nap. And changed," he added, shifting his arm uncomfortably. "I'll see to it."

"You are more skilled in this than I," said Leela. "I will let you take the baby."

"Thank you," said Narvin, sarcastically. The tone had little impact on Leela, as always.

Narvin carried the child away. He took her to the pantry and got a bottle of hypoallergenic nutritional solution. He located a pack of diapers - in with the thumbscrews, for some reason - and changed her. The child was starting to fall asleep even through all of this activity, so Narvin took her to his office and let her sleep on the couch while he did paperwork. It was a comfortable couch to sleep on, as he knew from a few too many all-nighters.

Every once in a while he glanced over at the baby as he signed off on budget requests and complaints. She was starting to fidget to wakefulness already. She was obviously fairly energetic, he’d probably have to find something for her to play with soon enough-

"Sir?" One of the agents was coming in, burdened down with reports. "I have these for you."

"Good," said Narvin, indicating a clear space on his desk. "Has Surgeon Elbon given his status report?"

"No, sir," said the agent. She was young, and she hesitated before saying, "I could go and remind him..."

"No," said Narvin. Every time a new CIA agent went to see Elbon, the man just extracted more information that he shouldn't have. Best to keep his contacts to a minimum. "I'll do it myself."

\---

Narvin knocked on the door to Elbon's lab, shifting the baby in his arm as she played with the soft stress-toy they’d taken from his office. The door slid open, revealing Elbon bent over a chemical synthesizer.

"Hello, Coordinator," said Elbon. "I suppose you want those tedious status reports."

"It's important that I know the situation," said Narvin.

"The situation is that the vaccines aren't finished," said Elbon. "I can cure the dogma virus, but I can't inoculate against it. And the cure isn't without its problems. As you know." He looked up at Narvin, preparing to say something else, and then stopped. "Why, I hadn't heard!" This was almost impossible, but Elbon had known it to happen. "And who is the lucky loompartner?"

"It's not mine," said Narvin, making a face. "An alien refugee that the Lady President has seen fit to harbor for the time being." He looked around for somewhere to set the baby before settling on a nearby steel table for lack of a better option. He stretched out his arm as the baby first squeaked at the feel of the cool table, then tried to cram the stress-toy in her mouth. Narvin smiled at her, forgetting for a moment about Elbon. The toy was far too large for the baby to choke on, and she was certainly putting it to better use than he ever had.

"And of course you are the most trustworthy caretaker," said Elbon, somewhat facetiously.

"As it happens, I am," said Narvin. He glared at Elbon, but his communicator buzzed, and he turned to address it. Elbon waited until his attention was occupied, and leaned over to look at the baby. She had given up on eating the toy, and was now just waving it vaguely.

"Hewwo," he said, quietly. "Whoza good babby den?"

"Very well," said Narvin, into the communicator, and Elbon snapped back.

"I'm needed elsewhere. Something important," said Narvin. He started to gather up the baby, and then hesitated.

"Problem?" asked Elbon.

"It might be a spy," said Narvin. He looked the baby over, as if searching for microcameras. "Alien infants are hardly the wisest thing to bring on a- an errand. I think she should stay here. Watch her, Elbon."

"What will you give me in return?" asked Elbon, disinterestedly.

"Well, I _won't_ look at any of those illegal nanobots you've carelessly left lying around."

"You mean the confiscated contraband I'm examining for one of your agents?" Elbon smiled. "I'm afraid you're going to have to do better than that, Coordinator."

"Just watch her," growled Narvin. "It will be a personal favor to me. And to the President."

"Fine," sighed Elbon.

Narvin set the baby back down, and Elbon got back to work. When he resurfaced some spans later, the baby had grown bored with her toy and was trying to topple over a set of test tubes.

"Careful there," said Elbon. He moved the test tubes to another area. "Those are bacteria cultures. You might be immune, given your alien physiology, but then again you might not. We wouldn't want to accidentally turn you into a Free Time zombie, now would we?"

The baby giggled.

"Exactly," said Elbon. "Now, I have some filing to get to, if you'd care to come along.”  
He picked the baby up and sat down with a large deadlocked box.

\---

When Arkadian arrived, Elbon was curled up with the baby, reading from a hard-copy file.

"And then Matthias said 'I won't stand for this!' and he made a face like this." Elbon pulled the corners of his mouth down, while making his eyes ludicrously wide. It was, Arkadian thought, a fairly accurate imitation.

The baby clapped her hands, delighted.

"My dear master surgeon, is this the incomparable child I've heard so much about? Ah, I see you are showing her your blackmail file." Arkadian came around and looked over Elbon's shoulder. "Is that Inquisitor Darkel? Deplorable."

"A woman has needs," said Elbon. "Her only shame is in being recorded by an acquaintance."

"Of course, of course," said Arkadian. "But it's hardly appropriate for children, is it?"

"It's educational," said Elbon. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, now, I think you'll find that our mutual friend Coordinator Narvin has sent me to take charge of this dear little girl." Arkadian smiled and held his hands out. "He remains occupied with his task, but knows that you are far too busy to mind the baby indefinitely."

"That seems unlikely." Elbon surveyed Arkadian. "You are a known criminal and, what's more are intensely disliked by the Coordinator."

"What can I do to convince you?" asked Arkadian. "Perhaps a transfer of a few thousand Nekkistani credits would not go amiss."

Elbon demurred, but there was a glint in his eye and they haggled back and forth for only a few minutes before arriving at a price.

"A pleasure doing business, Arkadian," said Elbon. He pressed the baby into Arkadian's arms. His voice gained a higher pitch as he waved them away. "Buh-bye, Darling!"

\---

When Narvin returned to the lab some time later, Elbon was not there. Instead there was a note that informed Narvin that the baby had been duly transferred to his chosen representative, one Mephistopheles Arkadian.

The piece of paper was ripped into pieces and then balled up and duly transferred to a bin before Narvin ran out of the room.

\---

Arkadian was having difficulties with the baby as he walked through the docking bay to his ship.

"Come on, Dearheart," he said, dangling a jeweled pendant in front of the baby's face. "Look at the pretty shiny Uncle Arkadian is going to hock tonight. Isn't it lovely?"

The baby continued to cry, as she had been ever since leaving Elbon’s care. Arkadian tried bouncing her up and down in his arms, making comforting noises. This caused the Gallifreyans and travelers around him to look at him oddly, but did nothing to stop the baby crying.

He was starting to attract attention. A few guards were moving toward him. And that was probably Narvin, back there in the distance, the one making a good attempt at running despite his robes.

"Seize that man! No, you idiots, the one with the baby!"

Definitely Narvin. Arkadian legged it, and the baby stopped crying and giggled at the breeze on her face.

“Yes, isn’t this wonderful,” said Arkadian through gritted teeth as he outran the guards and dived into a convenient bolthole.

\---

Narvin skidded to a halt outside the service shaft Arkadian had disappeared into. A short, narrow service shaft full of grease and dirt. The docking bay guards were already standing there, each looking about as ready to climb after Arkadian as Leela was to allow Narvin to confiscate her knives.

"After him," snapped Narvin.

"Sir," said one of the guards, and didn't move.

"I'm a bit claustrophobic," said the other, and backed up a step.

“If you were one of my agents, you’d be fired,” said Narvin, crouching down and preparing to enter the service shaft himself. “Instead, I’ll just come back and strangle you after I’ve captured one of Gallifrey’s most-wanted criminals single-handedly.”

He didn’t bother to wait for the guards’ response before giving somewhat cramped chase.

\---

Arkadian could hear the sounds of pursuit behind him, and it was difficult to crawl quickly while holding a baby in one arm. And a squirming, struggling baby at that. The pursuit got closer and closer until Arkadian gave up, turning around to face Narvin.

"Ah, Coordinator! What a wonderful surprise."

"I'm sure," said Narvin. "Kidnapping children is a new one for you, isn't it? People-trafficking, yes, but I doubt this poor infant could fetch much on the open market."

"She wasn’t for sale, Narvin,” said Arkadian, putting on a strained but winning smile. “No, I wouldn’t have dreamed of keeping this child for longer than it took for your Lady President to accede to my demands. I know she couldn't bear to see a child hurt."

"Perhaps," said Narvin skeptically. "Hand the child over, Arkadian, and then surrender yourself."

Arkadian weighed his options. Then he threw the baby at Narvin and crawled quickly away while Narvin tried to sort himself out.

There was a crashing noise as Narvin presumably discovered for himself the difficulty of crawling with a baby. Arkadian grinned to himself.

\---

Narvin emerged from the service tunnel somewhere in the Panopticon. He was tired, dirty, and bruised, but he was holding a safe and surprisingly pristine baby. She giggled at him, reaching to touch his face.

"Yes, a nice little adventure," muttered Narvin. He began to walk in the direction in which he thought the West exit was. "You've cost me the capture of an infamous criminal, not that you care."

The baby started pulling on Narvin's face. A remarkably resilient child. Narvin had an impulse to introduce her to the cousin of his that threw a tantrum every time he scraped his knee. But he could do without the face-pulling, in any case. Narvin was occupied enough with fending the baby off that he nearly ran into Romana when he rounded a corner.

"Ah, there you are, Narvin," said Romana. "I've been looking all over for- why are you covered in guck?"

"Due to circumstances which I will detail in a written report that you won't bother to read," said Narvin. He shifted the baby in his arms, and Romana's attention was drawn to it immediately.

"Why do you have the baby?"

"Due to circumstances which I don't fully understand," said Narvin, which was a bit of a non-answer, but Romana had come to expect that from him. "Can I help you?"

"I gave this baby to Brax!" said Romana, completely derailed from whatever she had been going to ask Narvin. She held her hands out for the return of the child. " _You_ can hardly be trusted with an alien baby, Narvin."

"What you're insinuating is disgusting," said Narvin, handing the baby over.

"I don't mean you would hurt it," said Romana, hastily. "Just examine it for recording devices or let it be captured by an intergalactic criminal or something equally ridiculous."

"What must it be like in your paranoid mind?" asked Narvin. Romana would have called his expression ironic if she thought Narvin capable of such nuance. "Now," he continued, "if I can be of no further assistance, I am going to do actual work for the good of Gallifrey, rather than for the good of whatever the Doctor has dumped on us now."

"Yes, run along," called Romana, as Narvin walked away. "I'll find a more _suitable_ babysitter."

\---

The baby cooed.

"Insufficient input," said K-9. "Please restate."

The baby waved a hand, very fast, and then tipped over from her sitting position onto her back.

"Subject has fallen," said K-9 Mark II. "Suggest restabilization."

"Affirmative," said K-9.

They tried for a while to pick the baby up, but it didn't go very well. She didn't appear to be capable of stabilizing herself, as adults were.

The baby began to cry.

"Input identified," said K-9 Mark II. "Subject is unhappy. List possible reasons."

"Subject is hungry," said K-9. "Subject desires attention. Subject is tired-"

"Subject," said the Doctor, "needs to be held, rather than minded by a pair of metal dogs." He scooped the baby up into his arms. "Honestly, Romana, I expected better of you."

"It was this or leave her with Narvin," said Romana. "You knew I didn't have time to care for her personally."

"You mean you think children are sticky and make people ill and you're making up reasons to be nowhere near her."

They walked off, still remonstrating with each other. The baby waved at the K-9s from over the Doctor's shoulder.

"Solution discovered," said K-9 Mark II.

"Success," said K-9.

\---

Twenty years later, Fira of the Est came on a diplomatic mission to Gallifrey, and was very confused as to why it all seemed so familiar.

Fira wasn't sticky or ill, so Romana was pleased. She did keep a close watch on how close her hair came to Fira's hands, but most of the negotiating was done over a long table and thus grabbing or pulling of hair was hardly a concern.

Fira wasn't quite as obliging about aiding Braxiatel's machinations as she had been at one time, but she did represent the culmination of a decades work on relations with the Est, so Braxiatel was satisfied. Fira was a little unnerved by the way High Councilors kept giving her odd and slightly scared looks, but she assumed it had something to do with her position as the first diplomat from a non-temporal power to be given access to Gallifrey in centuries.

Fira was good at seeing through the illusions that filled Gallifrey, but she carried no weapons and walked without the grace of a hunter. At least, thought Leela, she was old enough for knife lessons at last.

Fira was even more likely to be a spy now, so Narvin was careful to have her followed and her actions reported. If his thoughts strayed to whether she was eating and sleeping enough during her time on Gallifrey, such whims were quickly repressed. And he certainly didn't stop by to update Surgeon Elbon on Fira's status. Arkadian was similarly left out of the loop, to the relief of all concerned.

Fira did fall over once, while on Gallifrey, but she picked herself up easily and required no assistance. The K-9s noted the change, updated their memory banks, and went on with their duties.


End file.
